floating in a turquoise sea
by Arrowsbane
Summary: Three hours, he's been here. Three hours of cold feet and damp trousers. Three hours of dodging nesting sea gulls and wiping away sea spray from his glasses. Three hours… and nothing to show for it except the possibility of sunburn on the back of his neck. In which Yuuri is an artist looking for inspiration in the Ocean. He wasn't quite expecting a merman to pop up out of the surf.
1. I: there's an ocean in your eyes

This is a collection of drabbles, not an actual fic. Each segment can be read individually. It should be noted that these are being written for an artist on tumblr, so updates will be sporadic and most likely tie in with tumblr posts.

* * *

 **floating in a turquoise sea**

 **Arrowsbane**

 **I: there's an ocean in your eyes**

* * *

Yuuri scowls, sighing heavily as he resists the urge to throw his sketchbook into the tumultuous waves that splash up against his feet. He's perched on a rock near the base of the cliffs, the tide curling around his ankles and a half-hearted hope for inspiration curled up somewhere in the bottom of his stomach.

Three hours, he's been there.

Three hours of cold feet and damp trousers.

Three hours of dodging nesting sea gulls and wiping away sea spray from his glasses.

Three hours… and nothing to show for it except the possibility of sunburn on the back of his neck. That's really going to hurt later he thinks, absently wondering if he has any aloe vera in the cupboards.

It's day like these when Yuuri really hates being an artist.

He sighs tiredly again, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead and scrunches up his eyes in an attempt to gain some perspective. Deep breath in, and then out. You can do this, he tells himself.

This time when he opens his eyes, Yuuri shakes out his shoulders and lets his mind wander. His pen follows. Down across the coastline, shading in the outline of the lighthouse that sits on the point of the bay. He carefully inks in the horizon, and adds the curl of the waves.

Swish swish, hisses the ocean. Swish swish. Yuuri wiggles his toes, careful not to lose one of his sandals to the surf. There's a cloud passing over the crest of the cliff in the distance, and he makes sure to include it too.

The sun is warm on his back, and there's a rather brave crab inching closer and closer to the big toe on his right foot, but Yuuri's lost in his own world - a world of white sands and colored shells. What must life be like beneath the turbulent waves, he wonders.

A sharp pain in his foot breaks through the cloud of thoughts as the crab finally snaps its pincers closed around the wriggling toe.

Ouch! Yuuri yelps, snatching his foot away from the plucky crustacean and accidentally hurls his ink stick away into the sea.

"No!" He wails in despair, clutching his half-finished piece to his chest so that the wild waters doesn't ruin his hard work. Typical. It figures that the moment he finds inspiration something would ruin the moment. Story of his life.

Yuuri exhales heavily, slumping forwards so his head touches his raised knees, his glasses bumping against the edge of his sketchpad. A shadow falls over him, as something blocks out the sun.

"Mmm?" Yuuri raises his head, feeling rather emotionally wrung-out. What in the name of sanity?

There's an outstretched hand in front of his nose, his missing ink stick sitting in the middle of the palm, still dripping salt water.

"I think you dropped this," says a smooth male voice. Yuuri blinks, almost sleepily, staring up at a bare-chested man with silver hair, eyes bluer than the sea and a wicked smile.

How in the name of sanity did the guy get out here without him hearing?

Yuuri's eyes drift down, fully expecting to see board shorts and a pair of beaten sandals.

Instead he finds himself gaping at a tail coated in scales of deep pink and red, something impossible. The stuff of dreams and children's' fairy tales.

"Um," He starts, "Wha-?"

Big blue eyes stare curiously at him, hand still in the same position. Yuuri's brain shorts out, his vision swimming. The scene around him tilts alarmingly, and his foot slips on the algae-covered rock. With a short scream of panic, Yuuri finds himself falling into the sea. In a last-ditch effort, he throws his sketchpad up onto the rocks before crashing into the icy sea.

It's a struggle to keep his glasses from being washed away, and Yuuri almost cuts himself grabbing ahold of the rock, pulling himself up through the surface. Salt water washes into his mouth and he chokes, struggling to not breathe it down into his lungs.

"Um, are you okay?" The man - merman? - asks, blue eyes shining with mirth. He's now holding both Yuuri's ink stick and pad carefully above the water's reach.

Yuuri really wants to snap back that no, he's not okay, but right now he's more concerned with finding a foothold because while he's happy to draw the ocean, he's not too excited to be in it.

Today really is not his day, Yuuri thinks as he hauls himself back onto the rock, gasping for breath. The merman tilts his head, silver strands of hair falling across his eyes.

"I'm Viktor," The merman tells him, flashing a brilliant smile. The kind that should really be illegal, hell just being that pretty in general should not be physically possible Yuuri thinks.

The merman, no, Viktor gently sets the pad and ink stick down on the rock, before holding out a hand which Yuuri gratefully - and a little dazedly - takes.

"Yuuri." He replies, still feeling rather as if he's stuck in the twilight zone somehow.

It's the first of many long days down by the seafront.

* * *

 **AN**

 **For alexandralumetta dot tumblr dot com & drmuffinofdoom dot tumblr dot com.**

 **Inspired by this post here: : / / alexandralumetta dot tumblr dot com / post /154580452190 /ah-ah-sketch-well-rushed-is-rushed-but**


	2. II: the waves whisper to me

This is a collection of drabbles, not an actual fic. Each segment can be read individually. It should be noted that these are being written for an artist on tumblr, so updates will be sporadic and most likely tie in with tumblr posts.

* * *

 **floating in a turquoise sea**

 **Arrowsbane**

 **II: the waves whisper to me**

* * *

Of course, now that Viktor has already introduced himself, and gotten Yuuri's name in return, he's decided they're friends. Which means he keeps showing up out of the blue (pun not intended) in order to hand out with his new bff. Yuuri on the other hand just wants it all to be a really weird dream.

...

"Hi Yuuri!" Viktor calls from the waves, waving happily. Yuuri blinks, and turns to walk in the opposite direction.

…

"Yuuri! Come look at the shell I found!" Yuuri very carefully ignores the giant pink conch shell that Viktor is holding over his head in favor of tying off his sandals, and then hurriedly scampers up the bluff, art bag in hand.

…

"Yuuri~ The water is lovely today, come join me for a swim." It's the one and only time Yuuri ever bothers to answer him.

"I don't swim."

...

Some days it gets so bad that Yuuri finds himself climbing back into bed and pulling the quilt up over his head in an attempt to forget the world. What even is his life?

 _"Yuuri~!"_ Viktor's voice echoes in that frustratingly cheerful tone and Yuuri groans.

He forgot to close the window dammit.

* * *

"Phichit~!"

Phichit looks up from his conversation (gossip session) with Mila just in time to see Viktor careening towards him. The two mermen collide in a flurry of bubbles and churned up sand.

"Hi." Phichit chirps, always happy to see a friend. Even if said friend does have a habit of melodramatically flinging himself bodily at people. Mila snorts, watching the older merman wiggle his way into a hug."

"I need your help," Viktor wails, pouting rather pathetically.

"What's the problem?"

"Yuuri's ignoring me~"

Mila and Phichit share a look, more than a little lost at his words.

"Um," Phichit says, reaching up to scratch behind his left ear, "Who's Yuuri? You don't mean that little blonde half-siren, do you? The one with the sharp teeth?"

"Nope." Viktor grins, "This is _my_ Yuuri."

The emphasis on words doesn't go unnoticed, and behind Viktor, Mila shrugs. She doesn't know either. There's an audible pause while the two friends try to puzzle it all out. Viktor pulls back sharply, astonishment painted across his face.

"Wait." He says, amusement curling at his lips, "Something _I_ know about, but you don't?"

"Oh rub it in, why don't you." Phichit grumbles good-naturedly. Viktor does that strange wiggle-twist thing he does when he's excited, flicking his fins about and stirring up tiny eddies.

"Go on then," Phichit prompts him. "Tell me all about this Yuuri. What kind of cave does he live in? What color are his scales?"

Viktor shuffles his tail and taps his thumb against his index finger - one of his little ticks. Then he smiles sheepishly.

"Oh... well... you see… Yuuri's not like us."

"Viktor... what do you mean _not like us?_ " Mila asks him, tilting her head to the side. Her dark red hair floats around her face like red seaweed, but her eyes are unobscured and they're as piercing as ever.

"...human?" It comes out as more a question than anything, and Mila goes still.

"Oh Viktor," she sighs, only to be drowned out by Phichit's squeal of excitement as he pounces.

"Tell me _everything!_ " Phichit demands, and Viktor grins. He's more than happy to tell them everything about his latest find.

Phichit listens to Viktor wax lyrical about the artist who's so thoroughly captured his attention. The wistful look on his face when he talks about Yuuri's art… even Mila is fascinated, and she's been wary of human men for as long as Phichit can remember. But then she's a Siren, and it's never a good idea to let them near humans in general - the legends surrounding them weren't just told to scare children after all.

The sun is high in the sky, sending dazzling ray down through the azure water by the time Viktor trails off, sighing sadly. There's a look of faraway longing in his eyes, and it's rather obvious that his mind is elsewhere.

"Why don't you go see Makkachin?" Phichit suggests, nudging the older merman's tail with his elbow. "I swear I saw him chasing some seahorses into a kelp patch earlier. His coat must be filthy by now."

Viktor groans, slumping forwards.

"That seal…" He sighs. "It's going to take forever to catch him."

Phichit shrugs, and pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Such is the price for having a seal as your best friend."

Distraction in place and Viktor off chasing down his rogue seal, Phichit decides that he might as well check this human out himself – just to make sure his friend's not getting himself into anything dangerous and of course to deliver the 'I happen to be friends with all the sharks on the west coast, just so you're aware' talk.

He finds the cove easily enough, and settles into wait. It's nearing sunset when he sees the scruffy-haired, glasses-wearing young man that can only be Viktor's new playmate. A flick of his powerful tail sends him rocketing forwards, and he pops out of the surf quick as you like.

"Hi." He chimes, smiling with his eyes closed. This is how humans introduce themselves, right? When Phichit opens his eyes, there's a rather horrified look on the man's face. Oh dear, did he get the wrong human by mistake?

Of course, Yuuri's only thinking one thing at this point in time: _Oh dear god, there's another one._


	3. III: calling me to the soft sand

**floating in a turquoise sea**

 **Arrowsbane**

 **III: calling me to the soft sand**

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Yuuri asks, staring unblinkingly at the gossipy merman sprawled out on the sand not far from his small beach house.

(It's lucky really, that he lives so far out from the general population. The last thing Yuuri needs is the media swarming his secluded home and disrupting what precious peace he has – peace that is dwindling by the day as more and more of the merfolk find their way up to the surface, ever curious about the human who's caught Viktor's attention.)

"I came to see you," Phichit burbles, and the tiny sea otter pups beside him yip and bark as if in agreement. Yuuri resists the urge to find something heavy to smack his forehead against. _Of course he did._

"Yes," Yuuri grumbles, tugging at his fringe, "but why?"

"Do I need a reason?" Phichit asks as he rolls over, stretching out languidly on his belly. The dark purple scales glitter fiercely in the early morning sunlight as Phichit's powerful tail curves into an arc. Beside him, the otter pups chitter and scramble over each other in what looks strangely like a game of 'King of the castle'.

"Maybe I just like you." Phichit's tone rings of a slyness that contradicts his friendly exterior.

Yuuri snorts derisively. Very few people actually like his company, he's been snapping and snarling, pushing people away for far too long. If it wasn't for the regular phone calls home to his parents and Minako-sensei, or Minami's random sudden arrivals, he might be tempted to call himself a hermit.

"Uhuh." Yuuri raises an eyebrow, bending to set up his easel. "Try again."

Phichit watches him get settled, his smile fading away to be replaced with a cold expression and sharp eyes that seem to notice everything. It's only when Yuuri is seated on the sand and carefully sharpening his pencils that the merman speaks once more.

"Tell me the truth," He says, "who else knows about us?"

Yuuri blinks, looking over to where the ocean-happy cuddle session is happening.

"I appreciate the candor," Yuuri tells him, "but you really have no need to worry. I've got no plans of being locked in an asylum for the rest of my life."

"What is an… asylum?" Phichit asks, the word sounding foreign in his mouth.

"It's a place for people who aren't, well, mentally healthy." Yuuri explains as best he can, "They're locked up so they can't hurt themselves or anybody else."

"I do not understand." Phichit says. Yuuri laughs.

"If I went around telling people that the mer were real, they'd think I was crazy and put me in one. I have plans for my life that do not involve living in a padded room."

"Your human ways are strange," Phichit says after a long pause. Yuuri shrugs, not really sure what to say to that.

"You're not the first to think that." Yuuri admits, looking out to the horizon while fumbling for his preferred charcoal stick. There's a rather strong set of waves curling over the bay today, and he wants to try and capture that.

The familiar scratch of charcoal on paper lulls him into a pretty chilled out headspace. It's a long time before Phichit says anything else, seemingly content to play with the pups that are making his tail their playground - their soft claws unable to really do much more than scrabble at his thick scales.

Yuuri eventually puts his charcoal down, and pours a stream of bottled water into a small basin, quickly washing his hands clean and drying them so he can eat his lunch charcoal-free. Good for the gut it may be, but the taste has much to be desired.

"What is that?" Phichit asks him, eyes locked onto the small towel that rests on Yuuri's lap. Yuuri looks down, and blinks.

"It's a towel." Yuuri says, looking down at the item in question, feeling rather bewildered.

"What is it for?"

"Um… drying yourself off when you get wet."

"But why?" Phichit persists, the idea of not wanting to be covered in water is obviously a foreign concept to the merman.

"Some people find that having wet skin isn't very comfortable." The look of absolute scandalised shock and horror on Phichit's face makes Yuuri wish he had a camera with him.

 _"Why?"_ Phichit asks in a tone that could easily be a mashup of pleading and, well, whining. The otter pups stop their play, huddling together upon the small of the merman's back. With a graceful twist, Phichit slides them off onto the sand so he can sit up to look at Yuuri properly.

"Not everybody lives in the ocean." Yuuri shrugs, choosing to take a large bite of his sandwich so he can't answer any more of Phichit's questions for a good few minutes.

Phichit slumps against the sand, his expression lackluster.

"I do not think I like these _'towels'_." He grumbles, glowering at the blue and white striped fabric next to Yuuri. Then in a move too fast for Yuuri to really perceive, Phichit snatches the towel away with all the speed of a striking snake - much faster than Yuuri had expected a merman to be able to move on land - and hurls it out to sea.

 _"My towel!_ " Yuuri yelps in horror, watching it sink beneath the waves.

"There. It looks much better now." The merman says, looking rather smug.

 _"Phichit!"_


	4. IV: the water sweeps over my feet

**floating in a turquoise sea**

 **Arrowsbane**

 **IV: the water sweeps over my feet**

* * *

Under the surface of the ocean, the world is a different place. Almost Alien. What lies beneath it is a mystery that has ensnared the minds of humans for an age.

And the world is covered in water.

Leo loves the Ocean. How could he not? And yet people pour polluted garbage into it every day, uncaring of the wonder they are systematically destroying. Of how many lives they ruin or cut short with something as simple and tiny as the yoke from a six-pack.

Is it any surprise that he takes up the fight to protect it?

* * *

Guang-hong is marked as different from the moment he first comes into the world, his tail practically screaming 'Look at me, I'm special.'

It's his biggest regret.

Until now. They'd only swum up the coast because he'd wanted to see the tuna shoals, and now Liang is suffering for it. The Pacific white-sided dolphin has been his friend for years, they've done everything together… And then Liang got caught.

A dolphin can hold its breath for twenty minutes if absolutely necessary – this is something Guang-hong knows well, even if he doesn't need air to breathe – and Liang has already been underwater for four, having caught sight of his meal only seconds after diving back down.

 _Sixteen minutes._

Sixteen minutes is all he has.

It takes only seconds to weave his way through the netting with his powerful tail. The ropes cut at his hands, but he ignores the pain.

 _Fifteen minutes._ The knots slip through his fingers, and Guang-hong scowls in frustration.

 _Fourteen minutes._ A strong current tears the ropes from his grip, hurling him backwards, and in his scrabble to reach Liang, he finds himself caught in a second net.

 _Thirteen minutes._ Guang-hong wails, stretching frantically, but the tips of his fingers can barely brush Liang's left flank. _No._

 _Twelve minutes._ Liang is thrashing in distress.

 _Eleven._ Crying underwater is such a strange thing. Instead of tears rolling down his cheeks, Guang-hong's tears disperse into the ocean - his pain literally becomes just another drop.

 _Ten._ He's outright sobbing as he winds himself tighter into the nets, still reaching out for his friend.

 _Nine._ It's his fault.

 _Eight._ Why did he ever want to come here?

 _Seven._ There's a heavy whooshing noise as something heavy hits the water above them, and then the feeling of movement distorting the currents.

 _Six._ The water next to him fluctuates, and a hand brushes along his tail. Guang-hong jerks his head around and comes face-to-face with a human - tanned skin, shoulder-length hair and brown eyes that widen in shock. One hand is wrapped around the ropes that bind him, the other holds a knife.

 _Five._ Guang-hong throws caution to the wind, pushing at the human's chest. _Not me,_ he thinks, _help Liang._ The human is still frozen in shock, and Guang-hong has to fight to turn his head so he can see the weakening dolphin. He can see the moment that the human realizes what is going on.

 _Four._ The human lets go of the ropes, and swims over to where Liang is restrained. He strokes a gentle hand down Liang's back, and then wraps a hand over the dolphin's head, focusing on cutting the ropes beneath him first.

 _Three._ The blade saws through the netting quicker than any clam shell could, a strong wrist propelling it onwards. Liang stills himself, understanding what is happening.

 _Two._ More than half the ropes are swaying in the rush of the water now.

 _One._ The human cuts the last rope, and fumbles the knife into his belt, shouldering under Liang's flipper and pushing up toward the surface.

For the next few minutes, Guang-hong waits alone and anxious in the half-dark waters, twisting as best he can until his eyes lock onto the dark shapes near the surface that can only be his friend and the human boy. His hands are shaking, his dorsal fins rippling. And then the sounds of Liang whistling and clicking reaches his ears, distorted as it is by the water. His whole body sags in relief.

There's another flurry of bubbles as the human swims back down towards him (Guang-hong thanks the currents that Liang knows to stay clear of the nets), evidently set on freeing him too. What a strange human indeed.

In mere minutes, Guang-hong is free too, sculling backwards out of the nets. The human makes a strange facial expression - he blinks, but with only one eye. How odd.

And then he kicks upwards towards the surface, leaving Guang-hong behind with Liang, who noses at him and somersaults in the currents.

What just happened?

He floats there, suspended in a haze until Liang prods him again. He runs a hand down Liang's snout, curving down to rub his chin before sighing. A flick of his shimmering tail later and he's surfing a current back down south Liang at his side.

* * *

The setting sun paints the waters on horizon a scorching scarlet, as if the ocean itself were set on fire. Leo sighs, tipping his head back to swig at his now lukewarm beer. What an unexpected day.

He'd swum down to check on the tuna nets - nets that were set to be dismantled later in the week - and seen two shadows. He certainly hadn't expected to see a boy with a tail of scales that shimmered every color of the rainbow and large brown eyes.

Leo frowns. The hands that pushed him away, toward the actual dolphin had been torn up with rope burns; and those huge doe-like eyes had been filled with fear. There's no possibility of a hallucination, and the emotion had been far too real to have been an act… which leaves only one possibility.

The waves that lap ever-closer to his bare toes churn up white foam. Seventy percent of the world covered in water… well. Leo smiles. The ocean never ceases to surprise him.

* * *

 **AN**

 **Liang is Chinese for 'bright one'. It's both homage to the nature of dolphins, and follwing the trend.**

 **I'm not saying that I made Guang-hong's tail like a rainbow because his name means 'Light Rainbow', but I'm not saying I didn't either.**


	5. Notification of Migration

So, I'm pretty much done with FFN. I just can't do this anymore. I really can't.

Some of you are wonderful and have given me such joy, just by existing. On the other hand, some of you send nothing but demands and unsolicitated critiscm, and on occasional verbal abuse because you don't like what I've written. The basic tenents of Fanfiction are "Don't Like, Don't Read" and "Write Your Own Story." So go do that, because I don't have time for you.

If you want to keep up with my future work, then feel free to follow me on archiveofourown dot org, under the name arrowsbane or on my tumblr.

For those of you who are wonderful, if you don't have an existing AO3 account, feel free to drop me a line on tumblr and I'll be more than happy to sponsor you for an account. For the other half? If you think you can keep up with the harrassment, you'll find that's not the case as AO3 exists for Writers First, Readers Second.

Chances are, I'll be turning off Comments on AO3, but at the very least I'm turning off the notifications.

I'd say I'm sorry, but in all honesty, I'm not.

So goodnight ffn.

Arrow.


End file.
